#gallagher x gn reader

[sundayswife]

literally going feral with sunshine!reader x grumpy!gallagher. i love this trope to death any thoughts on a hcs?!

Ofc, ofc!! Now let's get going with this headcanon.

No warnings! Just fluff with sunshine!reader × grumpy!Gallagher. Hope you enjoy Anon!!

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Grumpy!Gallagher would be all tired from working all day, bumping into you would make him even more tired. Making the old dog all Grumpy around your sunshine self.

He would grumble as you would talk and talk about your day, asking him questions about his day only to be met with a annoyed sigh.

Grumpy!Gallagher who looks down with annoyance and tired eyes, he makes it seem like he hates your company. But really he likes it, just doesn't want to admit it and is just grumpy with you.

Will sigh when he sees you running up to him, about to talk his ears off again. And with your bubbly personality that really shows off on you. Makes him even more grumpy.

Always so smiley and bubbly around him and he's just frowning or glaring at you with annoyance. Maybe not talk off his ear and give him silence would make this guy less grumpy...

Grumpy!Gallagher who only shows that he's pissy or annoyed that your around, but really, he likes it. Your his soft spot but he hides it, and he does not want you to know that.

There is sometimes when grumpy!Gallagher isn't glaring or giving you some type of look. He is actually relaxed around you, but usually doesn't show it because he's sooo grumpy! But that's okay, because he shows his gratitude in his own ways.

Will give you free drinks time to time, will get very annoyed if you ask why. But he just shuts you up and says "Take it, before I change my mind." With a small, ity bity smile curling on his lips. But quickly fades away when he catches himself.

If it was relationship wise with him, grumpy!Gallagher would be less grumpy and annoyed towards you. Will show his affections in small ways outside, like holding your hand or waist.

Grumpy!Gallagher who would totally love having cuddles with you before going to work, still tired but feeling your warmth against his body makes him less grumpy.

Does show his soft side towards you more and more as the relationship proceeds, shows you his smile time to time. Will stop immediately if you get all giggly and tease him about it.

Grumpy!Gallagher would get extremely grumpy if you leave the bed and away from his arms. Will give you silent treatment until you promise you won't ever, everrr do it again.

......

"Darl', Shh..." Gallagher groans out tiredly as he brings his face to your neck, taking a deep inhale of your scent. "But, i didn't tell you on how cute the puppy was!—" you start before he grumbles loudly. "Darlin', go to bed." He growled out, before continuing. "Please..." Gallagher says softly, hugging your waist as he spoons you. Making the cuddle session more intimate and filled with passion.

...

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Author's note: Hello! I hope you have enjoyed this headcanon along side with a very small one-shot? I think that is what it is called. Anyways, thank you Anon for this request!! Would love to see more!! :) And reblogs are appreciated as always!!

[soylikethedrink]

Forbidden By Nature

A bird and dog shouldn't be together. You knew that. But you found it hard to resist against the handsome drinksmith at the bar. If people were to know about your secret relationship with him, it wouldn't look too good for you, a Halovian from the Oak Family. And it wouldn't be too good of news to your two siblings, Robin and especially Sunday, who strongly detested the 'despicable and wicked' dog.

⚠️ Tags & Warnings: GN Reader, Infidelity, Major and Minor Character Deaths.

⚠️ Note: Major spoilers from the 2.1 patch. This was also written before the release of 2.2 patch. I'm 100% cooked if Gallagher is actually a nice guy.

Sunday prided himself in his leadership. One could not deny that he was a man of many fortes. His great wit, and his erudition, and his unbreakable composure, these qualities made him worthy of being the head of the Oak family. 

And then there was sweet-faced Robin. While Halovians were naturally born with an attractive aura, Robin could easily draw crowds and crowds of people from different planets with just her voice alone. It wasn't much of a wonder that she climbed her way up in stardom with little effort.

Unlike your siblings, you weren’t interested in the spotlight. Being in the center of the spotlight means that you must possess the voice that the people want to hear and listen to, you must have a face that is easily distinguishable among rows and rows of people, and you must have a heart that naturally desires to be adored. And frankly, none of these appealed much to you. 

But one should not presume that your lack of interest in the world of celebrities implied that you weren’t promised for greatness. 

You were well-versed in the world of business. Your social networking skills were of top-notch quality. Negotiation comes naturally to you. While Robin found joy dancing and singing on the shining stage, your happiness lied under stacks and stacks of wealth and luxuries. Your riches were forged by your own sweat, blood, and tears and most knew that. 

Though some people would have assumed that greed would eventually have spoiled your heart to the rotten core, you would continually prove them wrong. As someone who knew the language and the culture of business, you decided to pass it all to Sunday. At young, he became well-acquainted with the mortal psyche. He knew about the worlds that they wanted to walk on, the lullabies that they wanted to hear of, and the lives that they wished they had. With the help of your connections, he easily made his way up. And before you even know it, he became the head of the Oak Family. 

And this went the same for Robin. As you weren't very fond of the life of celebrities, you faced some obstacles in conditioning her up for success. But you disliked failures, hence why Robin managed to become a top star at a young age with your help, despite the disagreements and disputes that you faced by the people in your surroundings. You then received Sunday’s assistance, who helped his sister to adapt to the life of a star. 

Because of you, the two of your siblings were well-known figures in Penacony. 

Your achievements alone served as the evidence of your success, thus bringing some clarification towards your prestige in the world of the rich. 

But you didn’t reach this elevated level of success overnight. You had some help here and there. Met a few people, some that you shouldn't even acknowledge. 

“Gallagher?” Your voice was pitched with curiosity, as you swirled the drink inside the glass by the stem. “Gallagher, the member of the Bloodhound family?”

Your maid nodded her head in confirmation. “He shared with me that he would like to meet you soon, and asked when you will be free.”

The sip from the drink trickled down to your throat. But the sip could not muster a quick answer out of you. You thought deeply on how you should approach the situation. The kick from the aftertaste finally booted out a response out of you. 

“There's no need for such a formal arrangement. We were close friends,” you said calmly.  “He can meet me right now if he wants to.”

Your maid gave you a second nod, before walking around. As her hand rested around the doorknob, you loudly said, “Actually, he doesn’t need to see me. I will see him myself. It would have been easier for both parties.”

Your maid pinched her eyebrows together confusedly at your suggestion. “But what would they think about—”

Her question was interrupted by the clinking sound of the glass against the table. Raising from your seat, you gathered your purse in your hand. You reassured her, “Don’t fret about it.”

When the door opened, you swung your car keys between your fingers. “I’ll be home around 8 PM. You know what to do if I'm not home by then.”

Before your maid could even argue against your departure, the door behind you was already slammed shut. 

You were an individual who marched forward with a well-strategized stride. It was an uncommon sight to see you standing still, feeling lost. You always knew what to say, when to act. It was almost as if living was natural for you. 

But anyone who observed you from a distance, knew that there were rare moments where there was a crack in the facade you wore. 

Heels clicked against the marble floor, turning the heads of the few customers in the bar. You sat at one of the empty seats, before placing your purse on the table. You wiggled yourself out of your coat, folding it neatly before placing it on the seat next to you. 

Closing your eyes, you indulged in the noises and chatters of the bar. The bar didn’t have too many attendees. But you were hardly bugged by it, as a quiet bar had a greater appeal to you. 

A glass was placed in front of you. It was filled to the brim with a pink juice, in which you suspected it to come from the finest of strawberries. Lemon slices were floating on the surface, with a sticker of the top-star celebrity of Penacony being plastered at the corner of the drink. The presentation of the drink was endearing, you would say. Especially given your background. 

Strangers would have been confused by the strange gesture. But you were no stranger to this place.

“Aw, how sweet.” Your hand reached out for the drink, as the ice cubes clinked against the glass. Even by a simple glance, you could easily guess it. Rose In Rain. 

Before you could even have a sip of it, you can already taste the flavors of the drink melting into your tongue. “It’s not a wonder that the bar has managed to retain its popularity among people of all classes.” 

With a very composed air, the drinksmith pronounced his response, “This is simply a part of my job. There’s no need for such flattery.”

He grabbed a towel, as he began drying the newly-cleaned glasses.

“Surely, a part of your job does not include you offering such a special treatment to his customers,” You teased, as you brought the drink close to your lips. “And why, I wonder. Are you interested in me, Mr. Gallagher?”

He kept the towel away, and you noticed that the folds were rather uneven. His lack of verbal response might imply disinterest, but his body language was telling you a different story. 

“Yes. Because no member from the Oak family, who are raised with wealth and riches, would spend the night in such a shabby, gloomy bar with moody bartenders. How could I not be interested when met with such abnormality?”

“Abnormality,” you repeated after him playfully. “How awful! I used to be addressed by such endearments, now I’m reduced to an abnormality. Do you detest me that much, Mr. Gallagher?”

You attempted to tease an answer out of him, as you slowly stroked his leg with the tips of your heels. 

“And here I thought that you would have a change of character after successfully climbing up in the social hierarchy,” he commented flatly. 

“Let me hear it.”

“Feisty, birdie,” he said in a voice that was tinged with slight amusement. With arms crossed against his chest, he asked in a huff, “Don’t say you come all the way here for that?”

“No,” you denied. “My maid came here telling me that you would like to discuss some matters. I just thought that it would be convenient to come here instead of the other way around.”

“Well, the discussion is not bar-friendly, I would say. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

An exasperated sigh came out of your mouth. “I’m assuming it involves Sunday.”

When your younger brother’s name rolled out of your tongue, there was a slight disdainful glance towards you. “Spot-on. Quite impressive, really.”

“Give him time.”

“And will time grow him out of tyranny?” asked Gallagher. 

“Tyranny?” You repeated him again. But instead of uttering it in a playful chirp, your tone was raised in frustration. “You’re speaking nonsense. He is controlling and demanding, but none of that fits what people might consider a tyrant. You need to kill someone to become one. And I don’t recall my younger brother getting involved in a manslaughter case.”

You slowly pushed the drink away from your sight. You continued, “I come here with the intention to have some fun. Let’s not sour the mood with such hostile arguments.”

“Sunday is young, and inexperienced in this kind of position. But he’s fast-learner. With his wits and charms, it wouldn’t take that much time for him to grow and become a proper man,” you defended.

There was an unusual pause in the conversation. And for some reason, the hairs on your arms stood up from the freezing air around you. Too cold for your liking. Not only the air, but also the man in front of you. Too cold for your liking.

“A higher position comes with higher ambitions, and followed with a higher price,” your voice dropped at a lower note, while shrugging your shoulders. “It’s just the way it is.”

He hummed in response. “It comes naturally out of you.”

Your forehead wrinkled at his remark, but before you could question his comment, he cut you to it: “Almost as if you are speaking about yourself.”

“Funny,” you said, feigning amusement. You heaved out a sigh of exasperation, your gaze fallen on the shiny counter. Your tongue no longer longed for the sweet, pink juice that was served earlier. “Let’s settle this with civility. We don’t need to jab at each other’s faults and families. To be insulting and mocking one another relentlessly is very unprofessional of us, who are known as the people who oversee all of Penacony’s matters.”

“Ah, I see. We are colleagues now.”

You closed your eyes, as you swallowed the rising anger that nearly escaped from your throat. “Yes. What else would we be?”

“Old friends?”

“Stop,” you commanded. Though your lips curled into the sweet smile, the white feathers on your wings started slicking down out of fury. 

“Stop?” He raised his eyebrows, amused at your attempt in concealing your anger. “I’m pointing out facts. There’s no need to get riled up over the truth. As someone who values honesty, I don’t understand why you are upset at the mention of our relationship.”

You exploded in fits of laughter at his provocation. The hand covering your mouth was an attempt in restoring your graceful image. And though the corner of your eyes wrinkled in delight, there was a mischief gleam shining in your eyes.

“Ah. I see it now. Well, forgive me for acting all uptight earlier. I seem to have forgotten that dogs need plays and treats in order to feel fulfilled in life,” you mocked. 

“And where’s my treat?” he asked, playing along with you. 

You grinned back at him, with your nose scrunched in slight repulse. “You will get your treats when you shut up about us. Alright, puppy?”

“No problem, birdie. As long as you could convince your bird friends that they wouldn't be chirping around about our reconciliation. ‘Don’t want to be on the bad side of your spouse. ‘Heard that they’re a scary person.”

“Fine,” the smile on your lips was now hanging loosely. “If that’s what you want the most.”

“Now, here’s where you are wrong. That’s not what I want the most.”

Your face scrunched into confusion, but how the corner of your lips twitched implied that you were not very happy with the way he was leading the game. 

“Then?” you dared yourself to ask. “Tell me. What is it that you want?”

He took out the container of washed blueberries, tossing them in the blender. 

“You,” he answered. It was such a plain reply that was pronounced in a flat tone but it had such a strong effect on you.

The chair that you were sitting in was very uncomfortable, you suddenly noticed. 

“You are a little quiet. Bet your mouth dry,” he asked. He threw out the first drink that was served for you, as he replaced it with a new one. You observed the drink, as the radiant, yet somewhat gloomy, blue color of the juice was toned down by your shadow that loomed over it. “Drink up.”

“Do you mean it?” you asked. “Do you want me?”

“Yes,” he answered. 

“After all these years?” again, you asked. But this time, with the intention to confirm. 

The toughest challenge in the world was no longer convincing the other four families that your brother was not a despicable, hellish being. But rather maintaining a simple eye contact with your first love at his bar.

He nodded his head. “How is that shocking to you?”

“It’s shocking to me because it has been so long. Was it like, 9— no, 12 years?” 

“13 years,” he confirmed. “I waited for 13 years. For you.”

“That sounds ridiculous,” your wings tucked closely to your neck, as they hid in your hair. “Not only that, this seems like what? A poor attempt to lure me in your little trap? But this. This whole thing— it’s not something that you could blurt out so loudly. Especially in a bar where we have eyes everywhere. What would my spouse think about this, what would Sunday and Robin think that their older sibling is out fraternizing with the drinksmith while their spouse is waiting for them at home?”

“You already spelled it all out. There’s not much for your ‘baby brother Sunday’ to figure out why this reunion was such a big deal,” Gallagher teased. With a shrug, he corrected you, “You got one part wrong though.”

This man. 

“Mind telling me?” You were greatly exasperated at this point. 

“I don’t like how the drinksmith sounds. How about your ex-boyfriend?”

Your hand reached out for your purse, and then the coat that you threw over on the next seat. In a hurry, you rose from your seat. “If this is what we are doing, then I’m leaving.”

As you turned your back against him, he walked around the counter as he chased after you. “Hey,” he called. “Don’t get all pissy about it. Teasing used to be our language. Remember?”

At the corner of your eyes, you took notice that one of the bartenders immediately took over Gallagher’s job. You had a hunch that they had been observing you two in a while. Even guessing what they could have heard gave you a headache.

But the man who was following you from behind was ticking you off even more. Even when you were both outside of the bar, he was still trailing you behind like a puppy. 

Finally, you spun around, now facing him. Baring your gritted teeth, you hissed, “I’m not going to lose my dignity tonight just because you—” You pointed your finger towards him, “—couldn’t move on from the past. I have a reputation, Gallagher. So do you. But unlike you, I care deeply about my image. So, let’s just bid our farewells. It’s for the best of us.”

He seemed to be taken aback by your fierce statement. With his hands placed on his hips, he dramatically tapped his foot against the ground a few times before shaking his head, “Wow. People weren’t lying at all. You changed.”

“So?”

Your jeer was barely registered into his head. With his chin slightly tilted upward, he continued, “You really did lose yourself to the riches and fame.”

The feathers of your wings hackled in anger. “And you changed too. It’s hard to believe that the lone wolf of Bloodhound family has now decided to be gossipy, and the first thing that he did is to believe some moronic rumors. Fuck off, Gallagher.”

“Did your partner teach you that?”

“Teach me what?”

“Teach you to curse,” he said, as he pulled out a cigarette box from the pocket of his pants. “Because I’m tellin’ you right now, they’re doing a poor job.”

You shook your head in disbelief. You huffed, “Why are you so against my marriage? Do you hate to see me happy, is that it?”

With nonchalance, he nodded his head in confirmation. “Yes. I’m unhappy that you are with them.”

“And so? Do you want me to toss my future away with them just because of what?” You gestured towards him angrily, “Some man?”

“Now it’s some man. Back then, you used to call me cuter names than that,” he teased. “Actually, it sounded even better when you moaned it out in bed,” a muffled groan escaped from his lips as he thought of all the good times you two shared. Well, it was all funny memories now. 

“Should I list it all down right now, birdie?” he asked, his eyebrows raised. “How would you prefer me to do it? Should I yell it out so that the whole world knows about your secret scandal with the drinksmith from the Bloodhound family?”

You leaned forward towards him, as he pretended to flinch. Your wings flipped angrily, messing up your hair. “Cut it, dog.”

“Oh, I will,” he agreed, with the tone of his voice now lowered. “But only if you tell me why you left me for that stupid chicken you married to.”

“They’re Halovian, not a chicken,” you exasperatedly corrected him. 

You look at a distance, as you wrung your brain out for an appropriate answer. While you thought deeply on what to say, Gallagher caught a glimpse of the wedding band around your ring finger. 

“Are they wealthy?” he risked another jab. “Old money, or new money?”

“Old,” you answered flatly while rolling your eyes.

He hummed. “So I guessed it right.”

Gallagher pulled out the cigarette out of the box, before putting it between his lips. He patted on his pockets for his lighter.

But you were quicker. You pulled out the lighter from your purse, as you lit it up the end of the cigarette. The light from the fire shone on your face. 

And out of sudden, his intense hatred towards you slowly burned away along with the ashes from the cigarette he was smoking.

You were annoying, that was for the first fact. While the second fact, you were dangerously beautiful. 

“Maybe if I wasn’t much of a social climber, I wouldn’t leave you,” you suddenly confessed. “But I wanted all the fame and the wealth. Because I have a family to support. If I were to run off and marry the guy I actually liked, there’s no such thing as Sunday the Allegedly Tyrannical Leader of the Oak Family or A-List Celebrity Robin in the news and other media outlets. They were out there, taking jobs of some rich pigs. Not living comfortably as today.” 

Now, his mouth felt dry. And the air around him felt hot, making him sweaty and uncomfortable.

With your arms crossed and your wings slightly droopy, you continued, “I saw the ring in your pocket when I was cleaning the house before we broke up.”

Gray smoke escaped from his cracked lips. “You did?”

By the tone, it was clear that it wasn’t your confirmation that he needed. Rather, he wanted your clarification on why you decided to ditch him out of nowhere. 

“You never told me that you wanted to be more than just that,” you said.

“Sucks to know that you hate surprises right now.”

Even in moments of a heated dispute, Gallagher would try to twist it into a comedy. 

“I wanted to make a name for myself in the Penaconian society. And the only way for me to do so was to make myself seen by these prominent people. At the banquet, at the ball, at the party, or at the bar,” you explained.

“I didn’t want to be a nobody. I wanted to become somebody. In that way, my siblings can live an easy life, without some rich snobs telling them what to do, and what to say. How to dress and when to speak. I lived that life. That was how I realized how irksome it was, and how I refused to let it happen to my siblings.”

You looked down to your feet, as your shoes reflected your face. All the treatments you received to retain your youthful beauty, but yet you hardly felt that your younger self was with you. Your younger self wouldn’t make that many excuses. They weren’t avoidant — they faced all obstacles head first with a feisty spirit. But nowadays, even a confrontation from a past lover can get you this upset. 

“It wasn’t a part of my plan to be pinned down by marriage. I was just taken aback by the sudden shift of our relationship, so I left. I worked for a few more years, then I received a marriage proposal from them. Old money, goal-oriented, business-minded. I knew two things when I saw them. That marrying them means that I could finally retire from all that social-climbing and establish myself among the elites. And marrying them means that my siblings have a greater chance to become successful. It would be a great investment, really,” you explained. 

“But I didn’t like them that much.” you reassured him. “They were good, but only enough to make me feel wanted. To them, I was just an accessory for him to flaunt off to his rich friends. They lie sometimes, even to me. I can see it right through them,” you admitted. “They lie to feel respected and liked. To fit in, sometimes. And I guess whatever they say about marriage is true. You will slowly become them, whether you like it or not.”

“So let me get this straight. He didn’t teach you to curse, but he did teach you to lie so  you could look better than everyone?” Gallagher joked bitterly. He looked at you up and down, “Yeah, I see it now.”

You decided to ignore him. 

“I liked you because unlike other people I have met, you were truthful. You didn’t treat me like a sweet candy meant to be tasted, or an object that was meant to be possessed. You were honest and you were genuine. I knew it by the first time we just met, when you dissed me about my drink order,” you laughed a bit. “What was it? My first order? Oh, dearest Xipe, I think I forgot about it.”

“Mungbean Soda. With that distressed look on your face, I knew that a few shots of Stellar Champagne was all you needed to keep yourself composed while dealing with those aristocrats,” he answered.

“So then I decided to take your recommendation.”

“Which was Rose In Rain. A classy and sweet choice, but strong enough to make you forget all your miseries for the night.”

“And it was delicious. That tipsiness made me realize how kissable you were, especially under that dimmed, yellow light,” you finished your sentence. 

“Am I still kissable now?” he teased, as he blew the smoke from his mouth. When he took notice of your irked glare, he raised your hands up in defense. “Hey, ‘just confirming.”

“Annoyingly kissable,” you replied. 

You watched the direction of his eyes fall to your lips. And just by a simple stare, you could feel all the blood from your feet and legs go up to your face, making your cheeks and neck feel hot. 

When he removed the cigarette from his lip, he slowly leaned forward. Your breath hitched up in response, he noticed. So he stopped. 

What filled in the air was the strange silence, the acrid smoke and your guilt. 

“What’s stopping you, then?” he asked softly.

Honestly, it was a difficult question to answer. Could it be that it had been an hour past eight. Or it could have been the wedding ring around your finger. Or it could have been because the way your stomach churned at the bitter smell of his cigarette reminded you of why you left Gallagher that day.

“I don’t know,” but your eyes told a different story.

His hand reached out for you, and as he interlocked your fingers with him, he played with the ring, twisting and turning it. But he knew what was your answer when your fingers curled in your palm, suggesting that you refused to let go of the ring.

“Oh, but I think I know,” he answered.

A worried sigh came out of your mouth. “I can’t leave all of this behind. I climbed too high, I’m not sure how to get down. If I choose to go down with you now, the fall would be too painful. And I don’t even know if I could survive through it.”

There was too much running in his head. His thoughts fly from one extreme to another. It was impressive that you could easily turn a decisive, composed man into such a mess: where he struggled to feel pity for you or just kill you off on the spot. 

“Why didn’t you want to be with me?” he asked, losing the childish accents in his voice.

“Marrying you was a choice, marrying them, however, was a necessity,” you answered. The softness in your voice felt like a sharp piercing through his heart. “A bird can’t be with a dog. That’s unnatural.”

Quietude witnessed the way you looked at each other longingly. While your heart weighed with guilt and shame, his mind was congested with frustration and anger. But yet, both secretly longed for each other. 

“But  I refuse to accept it as the truth. No, not when I keep on missing you for all these years.”

Before he could come up with a cheeky reply, you shushed him from his sarcastic remarks by resting your hand on his cheek, bringing his face to yours. Your soft lips pressed against his bloodless and dry ones. The heat from a sinful kiss engulfed the two of you closely, burning the part of your skin on your back that he gently touched. His hand rested on your lower back, bringing you closer to him. You could feel his beard tickling your chin, and he could smell your perfume in his nostrils. The bitter taste of his alcohol that he downed melted in your tongue, causing you to groan in delight.

The kiss lasted a few minutes, but you wished it could go on for hours. 

“For the last time,” you reminded him, your thumb rubbing his cheek in circles. “There will be no longer us after this.”

You stepped away from him, as your wings shyly closed your mouth while you were cleaning off your lips with the back of your hands. 

“You sure?” he asked breathily, his pale lips now stained with a crimson-colored lipstick. He might have to lie to everyone that he was drinking too many bottles in the Soulglad in the past few days (though Soulglad was clearly orange.)

“Yes,” you confirmed. You took a few steps backwards. With your hands gathered together, you gracefully bowed your head towards him. An act of courtesy which also served to restore your damaged dignity as a married person from an honorable family. 

“Goodnight, Gallagher.”

You waited for his response, but all he did was stare at you. The light from the lamp above you started flickering, before it completely went out.

Was it longing on his face? It was difficult to make out his expression, especially when the shadow covered him.

You guessed that it was hard to bid goodbyes after such a kiss. 

But for some reason, you felt shivers running down your spine. Beads of sweat were forming on your neck from the cold. Your mind was sending rapid signals to your legs: alerting it to run immediately.

Though your sudden instinct to run was scaring you, you calmed down your nerves by guessing that it could have been because of the kiss. 

Your thoughts were quietened when you saw the shadow of Gallagher rolling his thumb against the metal wheel of his lighter that he pulled out of his pocket.

Yes, yes. It must have been the kiss.

You were scared of your partner leaving you. Or Sunday being humiliated at his work because of his older sibling’s infidelity with some member from the Bloodhound family. And it could be because that person happened to be his colleague who kept on riling him up at work. Or maybe you were afraid that your scandal could create a blemish on Robin’s reputation as a celebrity. Now the whole world assumed that she was a dirty popstar.

But it didn’t seem that your body was agreeing with any of those guesses. 

Gallagher’s frustrated grunt at the stubborn lighter shushed your thoughts again.

You came to notice that your white wings were quickering badly. 

There was too much happening at the moment. You were so overwhelmed by the urge to flight, that you felt that you could vomit on the spot. 

Suddenly, a thought came to you.

His cigarette was already lit up. So what could be the reason why he pulled out his lighter?

The flame from the lighter brought some light to his face, but the sight of the man you used to love led to you gasping in horror. It was gloomy with burning hatred, the glare alone could almost kill you on the spot.

But before you could ask, a mysterious sound of ringing pierced through your eardrums. It belonged to no other but Memory Zone Meme, a secret from The Family that were kept away from you. You could feel it slowly spread its wings, which resembled the terrible noise of bone-cracking. 

You gathered the courage to turn around. But it perceived the sudden movement of its prey as an attempted fight. Feeling threatened, it stabbed its stingers through your body. The ground was splattered with a mysterious blue liquid, followed by the sound of your wedding ring rolling and spinning in circles. 

Your purse that was hanging around your arm was now on the other side of the ground. 

The outside of the dark bar that was filled with heated arguments and sweet confessions earlier died out, with only silence remaining. 

Well, only for a few minutes.

A melodious voice of Robin was heard, muffled by the zipped purse. Your phone rang a few times, playing the same music. It appeared that the caller was worried. Or angry. 

Gallagher crouched down, unzipping your purse. He groaned in repulse when the blue liquid stuck to his skin, as he wiped it down on his pants. He took out your phone, as the name of your spouse filled his vision. 

Your phone was flooded with notifications of your worried partner, asking about your whereabouts. 

Ah, you were supposed to be home by 8 PM. He looked at the time, it was already 9:30 PM.

In your defense, he would also be sneaking around to kiss a drinksmith at the bar if he had an overbearing partner like yours.

He thought of sharing the news of your infidelity.

But then, he scrapped the thought. He wanted to respect your wishes. Something about how the story of tonight was going to destroy Sunday and Robin’s image. Or something similar to that. He didn’t remember much because he hardly cared about your siblings.

It was not like all your siblings had the time to process your death, especially when they were next in line.

So he came up with a different plan. Your password was easy to guess. It wasn’t difficult with the help of your maid who used to work under him. 

A flash from the camera was heard. The phone captured the scene of a mysterious liquid splattered across the ground, with the gold-colored wedding ring shining brightly under the light, with some being covered by the puddle of your remains. 

Along with the picture, he texted, “Not coming home tonight, sorry.” 

He later pressed the send button, before tossing the crushed phone into the trash. 

The plan was to kill you off in your house. But you made it easy for him instead. He was amused, really. 

But his amusement was short-lived. He was disgusted at the sight of your wedding ring, which stared back at him menacingly. He kicked the ring into the trash as well. He wasn’t an expert in the art of interior designing, but he hated the ring being near his bar. It was ugly, hardly matched the aesthetics of his business.

But your finger wouldn’t be too lonely without the ring. Not when he still had the same wedding band from 13 years ago in his pocket right now. What was left for him was to wear it around your finger in the real world, then he could truly move on from his past. Just as you asked him to. 

And just like that, his mission was done.

[freyito]

ᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍʀ ᴡᴏʟꜰ

✭ pairing(s): gallagher x gn reader

✩ inspo: me and mr wolf by the real tuesday weld

★ summary: The Family is hosting a ball as more promotion for the Charmony Festival. At this ball, a certain Bloodhound Family member takes interest in you...

✧ a/n: pspsps did you know requests are open <3? (also totally not setting up a part 2 not at allll (guy who set up the most obvious intro to part 2))

✦ like my work? feel free to send a request !

🗒 cw: gn reader, anxious reader, mild penacony spoilers, just fluff-ish, he's a little eerie, proofread

✎ wc: 2.5k

The scene before you is incredibly lavish, light, and dreamy. It speaks of The Family’s power and bank, how quickly they are able to set up such a beautiful sight within the Dreamscape. It’s like a fantasy, something you’d only see in, well, dreams. Patrons from all sorts of colorful backgrounds flood the floor, some of them you believe you recognize. The chatter around you drowns out what would be ethereal music, guests piling in from two wide double doors. You look to your right, and you see Sunday, the head of the Oak Family all the way at the end of the venue, hands behind his back and observing the revelry. On the other side of the venue, you see Oti Alfalfa– which is very questionable in its own right. Perhaps the Alfalfa family paid for the venue, or… something. You couldn’t really make sense of it. With how crowded it was, you didn’t want to make sense of it.

With your head down, you make your way through the crowd, doing your best to make sure you don’t bump into anyone. After all, this was the first time you’ve seen anyone dressed up so fancy. And, some passing glances at you tell you that, for once, these people care about what they’re wearing in the Dreamscape. You avoid their gazes, making a beeline to the drinks. Or so you hope– this is a formal ball, after all. Would they really have a drink table like it’s some highschool prom? You get your answer when you reach the end of the hall, and there’s no table in sight. A pity, really. However, you do spot waiters walking around with platters of SoulGlad. It isn’t the best choice, but it’ll wet your throat.

Grabbing one of the delicate glasses after flagging a waiter down, you hunker down in a less populated corner. You watch as the tempo takes hold, dancers falling into line. You grow increasingly conscious that you are here alone, no partner to dance with. Not like you wanted to, right? Throwing yourself into a ball with no partner, not even a friend, it feels… embarrassing. And suddenly, you’re aware of why people's eyes have been on you. You lower your head once more, staring down into the glass of SoulGlad, furrowing your brows. You swirl the glass, watching as it fizzes and dies down, as the music around you dies down. What a shame, really… You had no idea what you were doing here, perhaps you just wanted to join in on the revelry? Enjoying yourself seems like a distant reality, despite that being the essence of the Dreamscape.

Reluctantly, you take a swig of the drink, letting it cool your throat. With a huff, you look back into the near empty glass, practically forgetting to even taste the drink. Whether you’re spurred on by self-hatred or a genuine interest, you make your way to the floor. Catching another waiter as you do so, you hand them to empty glass. It feels weird, being in such a posh environment. Yet, before you can reach the floor, a hand grabs your wrist. It sends a shiver down your spine, and suddenly your new-found confidence is shot. You turn around to reprimand whoever grabbed you, but you’re met with a Bloodhound Guard.

He looks at you with a stoic face, raising his eyebrow slightly when you shoot him a judgmental look. Just because he’s part of the Bloodhound Family doesn’t mean it’s okay for him to grab you so suddenly. And it seems he’s caught onto that, because he lets go of your arm.

“Ahem, sorry about that,” He starts, his tone cool and even, his voice slightly gravelly and deep. Yet, it doesn’t sound like he’s actually sorry, there is no apology in his tone. “You’re, uh, you’re kinda makin’ a warpath, here.”

You raise your eyebrow, and you have no idea how to respond. The words get stuck in your throat, and all you can do is look around. You’re on the edge of the floor, and the dancing hasn’t ceased. Everyone’s eyes are on each other, thank the Aeons.

At your baffled look, he relaxes and chuckles softly. “Sorry, just had to make sure you weren’t… going to cause trouble.”

A light blush dusts your cheeks, and you find yourself feeling embarrassed again. Only then do you take in the man’s disheveled appearance. Some stubble, hair left undone for such a fancy event, and a suit that was put together all too quickly, wrinkled and perhaps a little stained. His hazel eyes bore into yours, as if searching you for something, though he’s already established that you are no threat. Something about him, however, feels familiar. You swear, his name is on the tip of your tongue, you’ve seen this man… somewhere before.

“Apologies, didn’t mean to ruin your night…” He trails off, eyes tearing away to look you up and down. When his eyes meet yours once more, he extends a calloused hand towards you. His gaze softens and he smiles with a huff. “Care for a dance?”

“Ah…” Is the only thing you manage to choke out. You’re taken aback by the sudden invitation, slightly unnerved. It’s not that he himself is nerve wracking, but it’s the way he’s gone from gruff to gentlemanly. “Sure.”

Your response is dry, but you put your hand in his. Wordlessly, he leads you into the center of the floor, falling in step with all the dance partners around you. Despite his messy appearance, he dances elegantly. He matches the flow of the room easily, swaying, each step smooth. Now that you’re up close and personal, you take in the faint smell of tobacco and some generic cologne, and an undertone of something metallic. You do your best to forget about it, allowing yourself to get whisked away by the melody surrounding you two.

“Gallagher, by the way.” The man starts once more, answering the question, or lack thereof, you had asked yourself.

“What brings a Bloodhound to a, uh, ball?” You ask, attempting to strike up conversation. It only hits you now that you are dancing with a stranger, so closely and almost… intimately. Another feeling of unease crawls down your spine, and you can’t understand why.

Gallagher chuckles at your question, as if it’s preposterous to think that the Bloodhound Family do more than just act tough. “We’re allowed a little fun every once in a while,” He shrugs, pulling you ever so slightly closer. “It’s not a crime, right?”

The proximity makes you blush, acutely aware of just how rough and calloused his hands feel, your palms start to get sweaty. You do your best to ignore it, after all, this is a man you just met. “No, no, not at all…” You try to act and sound confident, ignoring the pit in your stomach. “Just… I didn’t expect it, that's all.”

Silence stretches between you two as you spin around the floor, like cogs in a machine. It only strikes you now how… mundane this event truly is. Sure, it is grand and lights up the night, but is there really a purpose? The unease and anxiety settles in your bones, and your pace falters, suddenly no longer able to follow Gallagher’s steps. He notices this, and slows down. But when you meet his eyes, his gaze isn’t concerned. He can see you piecing things together, and a smirk tugs at his lips.

“Got something on your mind?” His voice lowers, barely above the music that surrounds you two. It carries the tone of a challenge, but you don’t want to respond. Your throat is dry once more, and you keep your gaze away from him. He squeezes your hands and traps you within the waltz, every step caging you in.

“Just… nervous, sorry,” You deflect, trying to ignore the creeping unease that seeps into your veins. Perhaps this is all in your head, and you’re just letting the embarrassment, the anxiety, and the nerves get to your head. It’s not a far-off assumption, since you’ve stepped foot in the hall you’ve wanted nothing more than to run out. To wake up from the dream. “My bad.”

Gallagher lets up, loosening his grip on your hand and puts a little space between you two as you fall back into pace with the other dancers. His expression eases into something softer, something that doesn’t necessarily fit a man of his stature.

“You’re more than welcome to take a break,” He doesn’t apologize, brushing off the scene from the moment before. Yet, despite this invitation, he continues to dance, his own pace does not waver. “I won’t mind.”

You feel nauseous, yes, but when was the last time you’ve danced? When was the last time you’ve felt this elegant? You swallow your anxiety and shake your head, allowing yourself to really enjoy this waltz. “It’s okay.”

Gallagher responds with a ‘hm’ and a nod, no words spoken. Finally, you watch your steps. He’s already set himself as the lead, and you had no qualms being the follow. You step backward. Pause. Then you step to the side. Pause. Then you bring your feet together. You continue this pattern, finally hearing the music above the tapping around you. It’s almost comforting in a way, being able to follow something that feels… luxurious. And Gallagher seems to be enjoying himself, as well. He isn’t pulling you closer, his hands hold you loosely, as if he’s suddenly afraid of scaring you. As if he hadn’t.

Slowly, you relax. The beat lulls you into a sense of calm, spinning around the floor as if it came naturally. You are no longer hyper aware of everyone else, feeling as if it’s just you and Gallagher. His heady scent feels the air between you two, the metallic tang you smelled earlier becoming a lot more potent. You do your best to ignore it, the music picking up intensity. He drops your right arm, raising his left hand up, and spinning you. It’s a light and airy feeling, something akin to a warm spring day. All worries wash away so easily under such a simple act.

A man you’ve barely known, that you’re sure you’ve seen a handful of times in Golden Hour and Blue Hour, treating you so delicately despite his gruff exterior. Perhaps it’s the exhaustion that follows such a nerve wracking experience, you can’t tell. For now, it doesn’t matter. You are enjoying yourself, dancing with a Bloodhound or not.

Just as the waltz feels like it’s reaching an end, Gallagher dips you down, his hand placed firmly against the small of your back. His eyes meet yours once more, a sly grin spreading across his face, giving you a proper view of his sharp canine teeth. It isn’t as strange as before, something you feel like you’ve grown used to in just a mere four minutes. But, in that moment, you realize the rough skin of his knuckles isn’t just from his hard line of work, but rather bruised skin. You run your thumb over his knuckles, and he only furrows his eyebrows.

At this, he brings you back up, and you two resume the steady waltz. Now, you want to ask him about it. You steal another glance at his hand, trying to see if you were right, but the dim lights within the ballroom black you from doing so. You can’t get hurt in the Dreamscape, you’re sure of it. So, it must’ve been somewhere in reality…

“Some hooligan was stirring up trouble, wouldn’t leave their room. Had to drag them out.” As if he read your mind, he responds quickly. It’s quite impressive with how in-tune he is with you and your mind.

“Ah,” You nod, trying to sound understanding. It checks out, that must’ve been why his suit was a little… sloppy. “Sounds like it sucked.”

“The Charmony Festival brings out all sorts of undesirables…” Gallagher affirms.

The conversation is dry, but you still feel a weird pull towards him. You simply cannot figure out what else to talk about, what to ask. Anything you fish out in your mind sounds like you’re on a date with him. Sure, the current situation feels like it isn’t far off from that conclusion, but he asked you for a dance, not a date.

And, unfortunately, the ball was coming to an end. It’s a shame, really. Time had slipped away from your mind, and you had enjoyed yourself. Even with such an unsure start, with such an enigmatic fellow, it was fun. The music slowly comes to a stop, as does the other dancers. You and Gallagher are left together in a sea of chatter, flats and shoes clacking as patrons walk off the floor, an awkward air falling over you two like a blanket.

You look at Gallagher, and he has a somber look on his face, watching everyone filter off the dance floor. He himself had a great time, too. Something you assumed may be rare for Bloodhounds. But, he snaps out of it quickly, returning your gaze with a near sheepish smile.

“Such a shame, isn’t it?” He chuckles, “Don’t remember the last time I’ve danced like that.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever danced.” You shake your head, sighing softly.

“Well, you were a perfect dance partner, if that counts for somethin’.” Gallagher starts to walk, following the stream of people.

You follow suit, blushing a little at the compliment. You try to find an organic flow for the conversation, but all you can stutter out is a ‘thanks’ and a small nod as if to affirm your own confidence. You want so badly to follow up with a question about him, to see if you can get a crack from his cool demeanor, but ultimately, you fall short when you two finally step out of the venue. With a brisk exhale, you feel lighter. You hadn’t realized how stuffy it felt within the ballroom until now.

“Well, it was fun,” Gallagher sighs, shrugging off his blazer casually. “I’d invite you for another dance, but, that’s not necessarily my thing.”

With your one chance at getting to know more, you trip over your own words and decide, why not? Why not shoot your shot, ask him out?

“I mean… uh, we could, get dinner, or something?” You sound so unsure, so flustered, blushing a little at your own question.

“Why not?” Gallagher shrugs, an easy smile plastered to his face. “Don’t think I ever got your name, either.”

You hastily tell him your name, bowing your head like you’re grateful to him for this opportunity. You’re more grateful to yourself, being able to ask a question like that. You two quickly exchange phone numbers, and suddenly it feels like there's a weight lifted off your shoulders.

He gives you a thoughtful look, scratching at his stubble. “How about a drink?”

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN, REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[st4rrth0ughts]

Blood stains your hands. The blade is warm and crimson.

Mangled remains of people you barely know lie around you like a ritual circle.

You step forward to the stunned figure.

You press your hands against their cheeks, staining them with blood as they breathes shakily.

“You wanted to know just how far I’d go for you, right?”

They shiver. Your voice is quiet but maniacal. Yes. They did ask just how far you’d go for them.

They let out something akin to a gasp and scream as they watch you plunge the blade into your heart.

The organ is beating in your hand. Still warm and alive. Their breathing increases sharply.

“I’d give my heart to you on a silver platter.”

[dootdootwriting]

HOW THEY KISS YOU : HSR MEN

featuring: argenti; aventurine; blade; dan heng; dr ratio; gallagher; gepard; jing yuan; luka; luocha; sampo; sunday; welt (separate) tw: biting type: fluff pronouns used: none a/n: omg happy april fool's everyone i'm back!! (not a joke) (the post sorta is tho)

ARGENTI

bites you ♡

DAN HENG

bites you ♡

WELT

bites you ♡

DR RATIO

bites you ♡

GEPARD

bites you ♡

LUKA

bites you ♡

SAMPO

bites you ♡

BLADE

bites you ♡

JING YUAN

bites you ♡

LUOCHA

bites you ♡

AVENTURINE

bites you ♡

GALLAGHER

bites you ♡

SUNDAY

bites you ♡

[philistiniphagottini]

I JUST WANT GALLAGHER TO COCKWARM ME PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE-

I got u fam ;)

cw. smut, cockwarming, gn! reader

"If you keep squirming like that, doll face, you’re going to rile me up" Gallagher drawled.

His words tickled the shell of your ear, causing a pleasant shiver to creep down your spine. You could feel his hot breath puffing against your heated skin, making every hair on the nape of your neck stand up as heat coiled low in the pit of your stomach. Your teeth were set on edge as you felt wisps of his facial scruff scratch your sensitive skin, causing a whimper to stir in your chest and claw at the back of your throat. His words were only serving to rile you up further. How were you supposed to stay seated in his lap when you were straddling his thick, meaty cock?

Large hands curled around your hips as you continued to squirm, your creamy walls fluttering around his thick girth seated inside of you. His fingers dug into your thighs, grabbing handfuls of your plush skin as his nails dug into your flesh to leave behind crescent shaped indents. A breathy groan fell from Gallagher’s parted lips as he tried to hold your hips still, your warm, snug walls squeezing him when he so much as breathed in your direction. A warm chuckle stirred in his chest as his head dipped low, chin resting on your shoulder as he peered over to get a look at where your bodies were joined in fervid rapture.

"You’re not very good at following instructions, are ya darl?" he gently teased, teeth catching on your earlobe as you almost choked on a moan of pleasure.

The tips of your fingers felt numb as you dug them into his knees, nails catching on the deep crimson of his slacks as you tried desperately to hold onto the fraying edges of your sanity.

"I’m sorry" you mumbled. "I can’t help it."

Gallagher hummed low in his throat, eyes dancing with mirth in the dim lighting of his private quarters. He had been hoping to get a little work done, but then you had to go and suggest such a saucy, little idea to him. How could he refuse your request when you had asked so nicely with such a pleading look in your eyes? His mind had wandered far from his work. It was about time he took a break anyway and indulged himself in a little treat. Gallagher still refused to let you move an inch, letting you feel every steadily throbbing vein of his pulsing cock. It was such a sweet torture. A soft noise escaped your bruised lips when you felt his tongue lapping at your perspiring skin, your eyelashes brushing against your burning cheeks and threatening to slip close as another wave of arousal spiked your body.

Beads of slick dribbled down your trembling thighs, causing you to clamp your legs shut in a desperate attempt to seek an ounce of friction. Gallagher’s jaw tensed as he lost concentration for a single moment, eyes threatening to roll into the back of his head as your walls smothered his boiling cock. He lightly tutted in your ear, tongue clicking as he finally came back to his senses. The palm of his hand playfully swatted at your thigh, wrenching a squeak from your parched throat as he knocked your knees apart.

"None of that now" Gallagher chided. "You’re the one that wanted this, remember?"

A soft whine of frustration spilled from your mouth as the coil in your stomach twisted tighter, your sex throbbing for more attention. He wrapped his thick arm around your abdomen, rough scars dragging along the soft skin of your belly as every single nerve in your body was set on edge. Your chest heaved, lungs pinching in your chest as your head flopped back to rest on his sturdy shoulder, his chest digging into your back as you huddled further against him.

"Please Gallagher" you pleaded. "Please move."

He shook his head, brunette locks tickling your cheek as he nuzzled his nose into your soft skin.

"Come on darl, you can do it. Cum just like this."

A wet sobbed threatened to bubble up your throat as you swallowed thickly, teeth nibbling on your plump lips as your throat bobbed. Unshed tears sprung in the corners of your eyes as the tip of his drooling cock rested against the soft, gummy patch deep inside you, pressing intimately against it with every slow throb. It was a long, torturous process of being worked up into a frenzy, unable to control how fast the build up to your encroaching orgasm was and forced to feel every delicious pulse of his cock. Yet the feeling was rather…rapturous. Another hum stirred in Gallagher’s chest as your walls started to tighten, the knot in your stomach twisting unbearably tight and starting to crack at the edges.

"That’s it, you’re so close. Cum for me just like this and I’ll give you what you want."

The deep, husky purr in his voice was enough encouragement, filthy praises whispered in your ear about all the things he planned to do to you if you were good and made a mess in his lap. All you had to do was cum. Right. Now.

Your lips parted around a scream of his name as your stomach clenched, insides undulating as the coil shattered into a million, tiny pieces. White hot euphoria flooded your veins with relief, stars wavering in your vision as you clenched around Gallagher. He groaned deeply; lips curled in a snarl as a growl stirred in the back of his throat. He pressed his nose to your hair, inhaling your scent like a drunk man as your greedy hole squeezed him. Your words were slurred as you continued to whimper in his lap, toes curling into the soles of your feet with every hot pulse of his cock.

Gallagher rubbed his hands along your thighs, calloused hands soothing the tension out of your aching muscles as your head continued to swim high above in the clouds. He placed a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to your neck, prompting pleasant tingles to race down your back as his strong hands gripped your thighs.

"You did good. Now, allow me to give ya a reward."

[thenightsecrets]

thinkin about gallagher ‘n his biiig fingers

how he takes it slow, making sure to stretch you out properly because you both know how big he is

how he’d coo at your whines, finding you just adorable when you beg for more

how he’d move his other hand up, stuffing them in your mouth to keep you quiet

how he’d press down on your tongue as you choke back moans, knowing how you love your mouth full of him

how he’d give in when tears start streaming down your face, filling you to the hilt and kissing your tears away

how his fingers stay in your mouth, the other hand toying with your nipples as he takes you to heaven and back

just… gallagher :(

[threadsun]

Anonymous Asks: "Have you ever considered

Sleepy/lazy sex. Specifically with Elias but any of the snaccpop boys((I'm a slut for all of them I swear))

One or both being super super tired but also really horny so y'all just go at it and someone falls asleep either during or after

Sorry for the little ramble I'm just obsessed with that idea"

Content: sleepy sex, ghost sex, creampie, cockwarming

It's not unusual to wake up to Elias grinding against you. The soft whimpers and shifting hips are familiar to you. He often gets horny in his sleep, especially since you've awoken his mostly latent sexuality. The night you consummated your marriage, you unlocked something within him. Something that had up until now been confined to intimate moments alone in his own bed at night. And something he hadn't really indulged in for quite some time anyway.

You feel bad about how long he spent unable to act on these desires. How many lonely decades he spent wandering this house, wishing for someone to share his bed at night. So it's hard to deny him a single pleasure when he so clearly wants it. It's nearly impossible.

"Beloved..." Elias' voice carries that familiar husky quality that lets you know he's only just woken up.

You try to feign a sigh, but it comes out as an affectionate little sound. You smile to yourself, shifting to spread your legs just enough for him. It's... odd. Having a ghostly lover. Where you might once have needed a lot of preparation to take someone's cock in the middle of the night, something about the way his body moves slightly through yours leaves you able to take him with ease.

It's cold, but not unpleasantly so. His whole body is cold as it curls around you, conforming to yours so not a single gap is left between you two. His cock eases into you with a few gentle rocks of his hips, and you find yourself feeling pleasantly full.

"Thank you." His whispers it against your skin, breath stirring the hairs at the nape of your neck. "You feel divine as always."

You give an adoring laugh. He's too cute. Too sweet. It makes your heart flutter a bit, every time he compliments you like this. And the compliments don't stop. Between sleepy kisses, he mumbles praise against your skin, never for a moment letting you think he's taking you for granted.

He doesn't leave you unfulfilled either, hand making sure to gently work you towards your orgasm even as he seeks his own. It's sleepy, and cosy, and romantic. Everything you could ever ask for and more. He is everything you could ever ask for and more. And he feels the same about you, if the sweet praise he mumbles into your skin is to be believed.

Your orgasm is a slow one. A lingering one. Teetering on the edge of bliss only to fall slowly into wave after wave of deep pleasure. You find yourself drifting in and out of sleep, even as the last pulses of delight roll through you. You just about register the feeling of his cum filling you. Of his hips rocking to bury himself deep inside you again. Of his soft breath on your neck evening out as he falls asleep.

You'll have to clean it up in the morning. And really you should be doing it right now rather than continuing to cockwarm him. But he's fallen asleep, and you're falling asleep, and everything feels so right. It can wait.

After all, you're bound to have another round come morning.

[t4tstarrailing]

I don't write for him, but Gallagher sex headcanons I've made to torment a moot

mythus has like. weird sex abilities. the ability to give their partner a new hole, a new dick. the ability to make their partner feel what they're feeling, while their partner feels what they're naturally feeling. very overwhelming but fun sex, but it doesn't feel real once you wake up from your stupor.

Gallagher has the same abilities but on a much weaker scale. he can give you phantom sensations but like, it's more of a vague feeling than a full blown sensation. good for edging and tormenting.

werewolf Gallagher. that's it. he's usually well kept but once it's anywhere near his rutting season, he gets a lot more blunt with what he needs to do. smells heavily like beer, tobacco, sweat, and the woods.

thick creampies, something he has in common with mythus. not necessarily a breeding kink, just that his creampies seem to "stick" and are difficult to clean up.

plugs after cumming in his partner drives him absolutely feral and it will be the only thing he's thinking of while at work. werewolf Gallagher will get you a plug in the shape of his knot.

[unhingedkiara96]

Gallagher x gn!reader

Aaah~ To dress up like one of the most fashionable people who were ever seen on Penacony and start acting like a suspicious person with nefarious intents, just so you can get acquainted with the head of security.

And shamelessly flirting with him. And putting him in a state of impatience because you are quite literally making him lose his time, since nothing was found in your hotel room or on your person.

"Hmm? Are you sure about that~" you tease him. "You still haven't done any... body search, riiiight?"

He could ask someone else to do it. He very much could.

He knows he should.

But he asks you to go to the room next door so he can do it himself. And dismisses everyone else off your case.

He'll take care of you personally.

[yeonpm]

act III - are we dreaming?

penacony.

sunday -

please check later...

robin -

please check later...

firefly -

please check later...

aventurine -

please check later...

black swan -

please check later...

gallagher -

please check later...

sparkle -

whoops! nothing here~

[lostgirlfandom]

It's a Tuesday

Pairing: Lip Gallagher x GN!Reader

Warnings: Theft, cussing

Words: 727

Summery: Just a regular day in the Gallagher Household

It was a normal day for you... As normal as one could get when you were basically a part of the Gallagher broad since you were friends with Lip since you were kids. You were both known as the Terror Twins when you were in elementary school from the amount of trouble you both got into together. Pouring glue in one of the bullies that picked on the Gallaghers, Gorilla gluing the teacher’s desk, hacking the Principal’s morning announcements... the list goes on.  

So, it wasn’t a surprise when Lip came barreling into the living room from the stairs at the Gallagher’s house to find you playing on the Xbox with Carl.  

“Hey... want to see what kind of trouble we can get into?” He asks as he leans over the back of the couch where were leaning back against as your stare was concentrated on the TV.  

You snorted and without looking away from the screen answered, “Oh gods... we’re gonna die, aren’t we?” You said sarcastically.  

“It’s a Tuesday... I know how to restrain myself.” He jokes back at you.  

You let out a loud scoff and laughed. “You ABSOLUTELY do not!”  

Finally, the game finishes the round and you turn your attention to Lip and pause as you notice something you didn’t before.  

Your brow frowns in confusion as you open your mouth before pressing them together before sighing and asking. “Why are your hands purple?”

Lip smirks, “That’s a very good question.”  

You closed your eyes and pinched the space between your eyes. “I don’t wanna know.”  

Carl had surprisingly stayed quiet and listened to your conversation, looking between you both.

You give a sarcastic sigh and force yourself to stand up. “Alright, let’s go.”

-

Next thing you know, you were running from security at a science building that Lip got into. You were hiding in a random lab room and were taking deep breaths as you leaned against the wall next to the door with Lip next to you, a backpack over his shoulder.  

After a moment of silence, you could hear the security in the hallway going through the rooms. Their radios going off every now and then.  

“I have a solution.” Lip whispers to you.  

You look at him and lock his with him and he as that look in his eye when he has a stupidly genius idea. “Okay?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“It involves fire.”  

You sigh and lean your head back against the wall, shaking your head. “Absolutely not, Phillip.” You pause and then hiss out to him, “If we die, I’m going to spend the rest of our afterlife reminding you that this was all your fault.”

He shrugs and purses his lips together. “That’s cool. I don’t mind having company while being a ghost.”

You make a disgruntled face at him and he chuckles.  

The next thing you know, you found your way over to the window and look out. There was a covered walkway right under the walkway so you both rushed to open the window.  

“This way is more efficient.” He laughs out as he looks at you.  

You shook your head and for dramatic effect added, “This way is going to get us killed.”

You both jumped over to the metal covering the walk way and it makes a dull thud as you rush to then climb down to the ground. Both of you then rush to exit the campus.  

-

Thankfully, you made it back to the house and you both crashed in Lip’s room. After the adrenaline came down, he started to work on the machine as you read a book. You were exhausted from the running.  

Yawning, you turn the page. The sound of him tinkering with the machine stopped for a brief moment.  

“Yeah, being pretty must be tiring.” He spoke up without looking at you.  

You paused and looked at him with raised eyebrows. Tilting your head, you smirk. “Then you must be exhausted.”  

He freezes and looks up you to lock eyes with you. You notice his cheeks had tints of red on them. You continue to smirk as you turn back to your book.  

The next thing you know, the sound of tools hitting the floor sounds out and Lip jumping on top of you makes you laugh as he attacks you.  

[sw33tsuccubus]

𝒟𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝐿𝒾𝒶𝓂

desc: Liam Gallagher boyfriend headcanons

A/N: haven’t written for him before, hope this is okay. leaving sexual topics at the bottom in case you don’t want to see that :)

He likes wearing sweaters, he thinks they’re extremely comfy. He loves wearing oversized sweaters. In all honesty, they make him look cute. He’d let you borrow his clothes, but it’d be in the form of a ‘trade’. You give him a kiss, he gives you a shirt.

He’s the type to call you ‘love’ and ‘darling’ all the time. It just flows from his mouth.

He prefers sleeping in, could be until noon unless there’s a reason for one of you to get up. Likes sleeping with his arms wrapped lazily around your torso, either with you tucked against his chest or a bit of space between you. He likes sleeping shirtless in either his boxers or a pair of pants.

If you ever get up before him, he’ll try to find you with his arm after waking up. He lets out a sleepy groan and walks through the house to try and find you.

He likes sitting on the couch with you, holding your hand, watching the television. Could be a crappy comedy show, the news, some silly film. Occasionally he’ll lean his head onto your shoulder or atop of your own head. He’ll either kiss your hair or your shoulder through the shirt.

I’d say he’s not a jealous person. Sure, sometimes he doubts himself, but it’s only when someone ‘as cool as him’ looks at you. He’ll throw an arm around your shoulder and give them an uninterested gaze, though inside he’s hoping they can’t woo you. He trusts you more than himself sometimes, he doesn’t doubt your loyalty a bit. If some rando approaches you, he smirks at them and kisses you, grabbing your hand and walking away.

He enjoys going out with you. It could be a simple date of taking you record shopping and then going to a diner, or even some fancy dinner just to come home and talk about how uptight everyone there was. Movie dates rarely happen, he prefers renting a film so you two can watch it alone, but sometimes he rents an entire showing for just the two of you. Going to festivals is always fun, he especially likes bringing you to ones Oasis play in.

He loves giving you hugs. He saves his bear hugs for when one of you is upset, or when he gets back from tour. He is kind of like a bear, he’s a warm person to hug and cuddle.

There are many kisses he enjoys. Kisses to the cheeks, forehead, and nose are all sweet, but he has favorites. Kissing his hair while he’s sleepy, it makes him feel all soft. Kissing the corner of his mouth, it’s like a tease for him. He’ll grab your jaw gently and pull you into a real kiss. Kissing the other persons jaw is all sweet, kissing the other persons neck is slightly more intimate.

Sex can be interesting. I’d say he prefers to be the top, he also likes watching your face. He likes when you ride him, so he can grip your hips or thighs. He likes missionary, probably his favorite position. He can see your face, access your whole body. He likes sucking at your shoulders and kissing at your collarbones. He likes dipping his hands under your shirt while making out with you, squeezing your hips and tracing patterns on your back. Likes to go to the window and smoke a cigarette after, looking at the stars or sunset with you, before pulling you into bed with him and holding you close.

[st4rrth0ughts]

Gallagher with that big breast? I hope that'll make a great pillow to rest.

- ❄️ anon

anon, anon, i see you and your dilf loving self, i see you

dont stop

but big boobie Gallagher has me barking and rolling on the floor

Just imagine stuffing your face in them when you want to sleep, he'd let you, it destresses both of you, tbf, him just running his coarse hands through your hair and you just... boobs.

they jiggle when you fuck him. Like, he's pushed against the mattress, and his breasts just- bounce. Grab them between your hand and i swear, he will cum immediatley.

[dynamic-power]

October 22nd prompt: knife play

Rated T

Words: 243

Bringing it back to Carl with a little more Carl x GN reader.

-----

You’re absently flicking your knife open and shut when Carl wanders in. 

“Whatcha got there, hotshot?” he asks as he collapses onto the couch beside you. 

“New knife,” you say, folding it closed before pulling the tab to open it again with a satisfying shwick. You lean over and offer the handle to Carl. 

You realize your mistake when he takes it from you with a glint in his eyes. “Trust me?” he says, twisting the blade handle easily in his nimble fingers. 

You gasp as you feel the point of the blade press to your sternum. He’s got the dull side against you, the sharper side pointing up, but you feel the threat of the knife anyway. He shifts, getting onto his knees and moving closer until he can throw a leg over your lap. He settles on top of you, his thighs bracketing yours. 

“Hardly,” you say, but you know he understands what you mean. Because you do trust him. Implicitly.

He starts to drag the tip of the knife down. You feel it scrape against your stomach over the fabric of your shirt. He pulls up the hem and you hiss as the cool metal touches your skin, just below your navel. 

He hums. “I never really liked this shirt, anyway,” he says as he tugs the blade up into the fabric in his other hand. You melt into the couch as you hear the sound of your shirt ripping.

[cloudy-em]

I Need You - College!Lip Gallagher x College!GN!Reader

sub!Lip from earlier today got me thinking about how Lip needs to be taken care of sometimes. Like we love when he looks out for the reader, but he was always looking out for everyone growing up.

xxxxxxxxx

You're reading your textbook about world religions in the floor lounge. It's late, but you have to finish the chapter before class tomorrow at 8am. The words on the page are blurring together, and your eyes are tearing up ever so slightly. The sofa beside you dips, and the weight on your shoulder distracts you from the book for a moment.

Without looking up, you question him. "What's up, Lip?" You hear him sigh and he tries to push himself impossibly closer to you.

"Fiona called."

The tone of his voice makes you realize something's wrong and you close your book, wrapping and arm around his shoulder.

"She- she said she didn't want me to worry, but Ian's in the hospital. It's getting worse, Y/N."

"I'm so sorry, honey," you tell him genuinely, rubbing up and down his arm in an attempt to comfort him.

"He's my little brother, Y/N. I know Fiona doesn't want me to worry, but she needs me! Carl and Debbie and Liam need me! Ian needs me!"

"I know, Lip, I know. You don't have to do it alone, though. Look, it's Wednesday. We can afford two days out of school. We'll email our professors, let them know we can't make it. If they don't like it, fuck them! We'll head out first thing in the morning and stay for the weekend. We'll reevaluate then if they still need us on Sunday, okay? We'll work through it," you told him firmly.

"You're sure? You don't have to do this for me-" you cut Lip off, not needing to listen to him ramble about how he deserves to carry the weight of the world alone.

"Yes, Lip, I'm sure. We're in this together."

He can't help himself. He holds you tighter than he ever has, holding tears back. Frank reminded him that "men don't cry" every chance he had, but Lip can't help it. He's exhausted and stressed, and here you are risking your grades and future to help him take care of his family.

He relaxes into you, ready to take on the challenges of the days ahead with you at his side.